


The Deciding Factor

by TwoPisces



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-12
Updated: 2012-09-12
Packaged: 2017-11-14 02:06:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/510164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwoPisces/pseuds/TwoPisces
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's a lot of little things that lead them to this moment. She's not sure which exactly it was to push her over the edge, but almost all of the moments she can pinpoint lead to the bakery." Pre-Epilogue, Mockingjay one shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Deciding Factor

It's a lot of little things that lead them to this moment. She's not sure which exactly it was to push her over the edge, but almost all of the moments she can pinpoint lead to the bakery. She goes there after hunting every day, after she's done trading away what her and Peeta won't use themselves. She always comes in the back door, pushing it shut before stripping out of her hunting jacket and propping the bow and arrows alongside her game bag in the corner. She washes up quickly at the back sink and joins him in the front, helping him bag up items for the customers that have been slowly growing in numbers since they came back to Twelve.

At first she thinks it was the young family that came in a month ago, the two dark haired kids staring at the swirls and puffs of brightly colored frosting on the cakes and cookies as if they'd never seen anything more beautiful in the world. Truthfully, they probably hadn't.

"Do you want a cookie, Patience and Jonas?"

She watched as their eager heads nodded and Peeta pulled out half a dozen cookies, sliding four in a plain paper bag before walking around the counter, his limp barely noticeable anymore, as he placed the sugared confections in their hands. Their olive colored arms reached up to wrap around his shoulders and she watched as he tried to encompass both of them, his arms full of exuberant, satisfied children and their sticky hands full of sugar. That's the first time she feels the bubbling warmth of...something. The want. Not just wanting Peeta, but wanting their children in his arms, not someone else's.

Then, she thinks it was the way he looked at Delilah Carnsworth. The cornflower blue shift dress she's wearing falling perfectly over her swollen stomach, round with a child due any day now. Katniss comes around the corner in time to hear Delilah exclaim as Peeta hands her a wild onion roll from the case, her mouth biting into the soft, buttery bread and a moan escaping her lips. The look on her husband's face isn't one of desire but instead, jealousy. His eyes don't stray to Delilah's ample breasts or her eyes closed in satisfaction. No, instead, they take in the roundness of her stomach, cradling her unborn child. That's the first time she feels her heart ache at every time she's said no. He rarely asks anymore for a baby, but she's always said no.

She's sitting at the counter, perched on one of the stools they have along the outside facing the table, her fingers pulling apart a cheese danish, the strips of icing crisscrossing it making her fingers sticky. She hears him come in the door, his heavy footfalls against the wooden planks of their floor are as familiar to her now as her own. He still makes a terrible hunter.

"Hey."

She makes a noise in response and continues to pull the danish apart. She watches him slide his boots off and throw his jacket over one of the hooks over the door, the sleeves of his black woolen coat pressing against the smooth leather of hers. He grabs his bag off of the floor and slides it onto the counter, taking out a few loaves of bread and half a dozen cheese buns, pushing them into the bread box on the counter. He peeks over at the pot she has on the stove and grabs the spoon next to it, stirring it around to see the rabbit, potatoes, carrots and onion before he pulls out a rosemary bread he made yesterday, slicing it into thick slices.

"Peeta?"

He looks over his shoulder at her, his hands still slicing the bread out of habit. Years of working in the bakery has made it second nature to him.

"I'm...I want one."

"You want a slice of bread?"

He grabs a piece and holds it out to her but she just stares at it before finding her voice again.

"I want a baby."

His eyes search hers, the slice of bread in his hand falling the half foot to the counter. He drops the knife on the counter he had been cutting at and turns to her, his eyes staying on hers while she looks back at him, never looking away.

"You're serious."

"I just...I really want one now."

He takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She watches him come around the counter, her legs parting to let him stand in front of her, his hands pushing her hair behind her ears before he cups her face, searching her face for any sign that she's playing. He knows she doesn't joke about this but it's been five years. He's long since given up asking and he has no idea what's caused her change. He still has flashbacks once in a while and she still has days she doesn't leave their bed. But they're better now, better than they were before when they came back home broken from war and death and destruction of everything they knew.

"What made you change your mind?"

She sighs, her breath sweet from the danish as it feathers across his face. She's showered since being out in the woods he notices, her scent clean and spicy from the soap she started making as a way to remember her mother. Her mother only comes once in a while, but at least they talk now. They know that their pain is mutual, even if they don't deal with it the same.

"I don't know if it was one thing. I think...I think I finally trust myself. I'll still be scared, frightened of everything, but I want a child with you. I want you to be a father to my child. My children."

His lips crash into hers, parting them with his tongue and his arms slide around her waist and shoulders, pulling her against him. It is both desperate and loving, as if he thinks she'll change her mind at any moment. She pulls back long enough to grab his hand from around her hips, standing and pulling him toward the stairs, up to their bedroom. It started slowly, them growing back together again from the broken, unstable people they were after the war. After her trial and his treatment, they took a while to fall back together again. Touches and kisses were slow in coming, their trembling souls mending slowly back into who they were now. They could never be who they were before that first reaping again. If they were, she may have ended up with Gale and he would have likely ended up with Delly or some other blonde girl from town. But they weren't that now. Now, they were Katniss and Peeta. The star crossed lovers of the 74th Hunger Games that had started a revolution and war. The girl that shot the wrong president and the boy driven crazy by the Capitol. The boy and girl that had grown into a man and woman more in love now than they had ever been before.

He pushes her against the wall just inside their room, their hips colliding at the same time as their mouths, his arousal pressing against her and his tongue finding hers. It's a possessive lovemaking, much like the first time they ran into Gale at some Capital party. Gale had pressed his lips to her cheek, clasping her hand and telling her how good she looked, how healthy she seemed. Peeta had pushed her into their room afterwards, not even wasting time getting her undressed. He pushed her dress up over her hips and had taken her from behind, his hips slamming into hers relentlessly, his talented fingers finding the bundle of nerves between her legs and making her scream his name over and over. He had told her that night that she was his, only his and she had become rather attached to this possessive side of him.

He presses her across the room, their feet stumbling in their haste to reach the bed. He guides her down to the mattress and their clothes are pulled off, his hands wrestling her shirt, bra and pants off with ease. Her fingers fumble with his pants in her haste to hurry but his fingers meet hers, helping her remove the rest of their clothes until just their naked skin presses together, his mouth moving down to latch on to a nipple, causing her pants to become quiet moans, her lips pressing soft, sucking kisses to his shoulder and neck. He starts pressing kisses down her stomach before she pulls him back up, her lips pressing against his.

"I don't want to wait."

He smiles at her before taking her lips with his again, aligning himself with her as she guides him into her, soft moans moving between their mouths as he moves over her, one of his hands dipping down to thumb her nipple while they find their rhythm, years of practice guiding their movements, her legs high against his sides and his movements hit her where she needs the pressure the most. It's steady and soon the room is full of their soft sounds of pleasure, her voice hiking up in pitch as she gets closer to her orgasm, his quiet and steady, waiting for her. He snakes a hand down to her center, where he knows she has to have friction to come. His two fingers find a pattern and rhythm, worked out over nights of experimenting with everything they never had a chance to learn as teenagers.

"Oh, god...Peeta..."

"Come with me, babe."

Her grey eyes open and meet his blue, her lips parting a second before he feels her clamp around him, his thrusts becoming sharp and losing their gracefulness before he finds his own release. Their fingers are dug into each others shoulders, the skin sure to bruise tomorrow. His head falls down to her shoulder, his damp forehead pressing against her soft skin as he breaths in her spicy scent. He wraps an arm under her hips before pulling her on top of him, her head against his chest as they catch their breath.

"It's different without a condom."

He chuckles against the top of her head. "Yeah, I noticed."

She's tracing patterns against his shoulder and arm as his fingers run up and down her back, following the curve of her spine as her breathing evens out. He glances down and sees her eyelashes fluttering against him. It's her usual pattern after they have sex, he pulls her on top of him and she falls asleep almost instantly. His eyes feel heavy from the long day and they start to stay closed more than open before he hears her let out a long breath.

"What?"

"I was just thinking. The next few weeks are going to be exhausting."

He searches through his fuzzy brain for anything they've committed themselves to. Capitol engagements are far and few between anymore and he can't think of a single thing happening in their district soon. She props her head up and folds her arms on his chest. He gives her a confused look and she gives him the most radiant smile he's seen since the day he asked her to marry him.

"Well...while some certainly get pregnant after one time, we wouldn't want to leave that to chance, would we?"

The smile spreads across his face as he grabs one of her hands and presses a kiss against her fingers.

"Oh, absolutely not."


End file.
